Bringing Down Sam Read Online Free

Sam amended the thought. It only cupped one thigh. The other was utterly bare, from her red painted toenails up to her naked hip, enticingly exposed by the high slit of the provocative gown. The bare thigh rested on the other, with the white silk caught coyly between.
    "My leg's falling asleep," the model said with a laugh.
    Her voice rolled over him, low and sultry. For the first time, Sam pulled his eyes away from her curvaceous body and allowed himself to study her face. "Perfect," he mused, not surprised.
    He'd never, in his life, seen a woman who looked so like an angel on earth. Her golden blonde tresses blew back from her forehead, teased by the fan, and fell to well below her shoulders. Her face was soft, not thin and gaunt as was the fashion with many runway models these days. Her cheekbones were high, her mouth wide and expressive. Unable to tell the color of her eyes from where he stood, Sam imagined they were deep blue.
    He had never seen her before, Sam felt sure of it. Curious that a woman as obviously comfortable in front of the camera and as utterly beautiful as this one would still be an unknown. She wasn't young, not some teenager just starting out. He figured she was in her mid-to-late twenties.
    No one had seen him enter the studio, and he remained quiet, not even sucking in a breath in case the goddess or her retainers should hear and kick him out before he'd looked his fill. Then he realized he could look forever and not reach his fill.
    "Hello, Sam."
    Sam turned as someone entered the studio behind him. Diana Gerard, the magazine’s brand new senior editor, offered him a cool smile. Sam tried to return it, struggling to appear normal when in fact he was busy trying to hide the physical proof of his instant attraction to the model. Diana didn't seem to notice as he shifted from leg to leg and re-buttoned his suit jacket. At least, he hoped she didn't notice.
    "Hello. Am I in the right place?"
    "Yes, we're just running a little late," the woman replied, following his gaze to the photo shoot going on in the other part of the room. "She's something, don't you think?"
    Sam nodded, his eyes narrowing. "Who is she?"
    Before Diana had a chance to reply, the blonde on the couch sat up and stretched her arms up over her head. Sam just stared. The woman arched her head from side to side, revealing the perfect length of her smooth neck, then gracefully rose from the chaise lounge. The assistant immediately brought her a robe, which she shrugged over her shoulders with a murmured thank you.
    "Come on, I'll introduce you," Diana said.
    Sam hesitated. He made it a point to avoid femme fatales. Too many of them had tried to suck him in, wanting to be the one who brought Sam Kenneman, the writer, to his knees, not caring if Sam Kenneman, the man, was injured in the fall. But curiosity and pure adrenaline pushed him forward.
    "Blue," he muttered under his breath as he joined the two women. Just as he'd thought, the sexy model’s eyes were a rich, deep blue. For one second, when he first caught her glance, he saw a sparkle of amusement, a hint of secret knowledge in the depths of her eyes, then she looked away. He studied the fine curve of her delicate brows, the dark, thick lashes. Her high, strongly defined cheekbones indicated strength beneath the beauty. 
    "I want you to meet someone," Diana said to the woman. "This is Sam Kenneman. He writes for His World . He's going to be one of the men in a new layout we're doing later this year."
    The other woman lifted her chin and looked directly at him. This time, though, something was different. Her expression was friendly, very friendly. She blinked rapidly, her heavy makeup causing her eyelashes to look like fluttering bird's wings, and a certain vapidness appeared in her expression. Sam shrugged off the thought as he held out his hand.
    "I'm so pleased to meet you," she chirped. Taken off guard, Sam nearly drew away from her.
    She sounded different. Her voice was high